Читать книгу On the Trail of King Richard III - L. M. Ollie - Страница 9

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,

This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,

Shakespeare –

The Tragedy of King Richard the Second

[Act II, Scene 1]

‘Breakfast is coming,’ Laura whispered as she slipped into her seat.

Gail pushed her blanket back, stretched effusively and yawned. ‘Where did you go?’

‘I went to the back of the plane. I found two empty crew seats.’

‘I hope you didn’t try to sneak a cigarette. I’ve heard that passengers who do get handed a parachute.’

‘I’m patched.’

‘You’re what?’

‘Nicotine patches - I’m on the drip feed.’ Laura smile wickedly. ‘What to try one? They’re guaranteed to be a blast for a non-smoker.’

Gail fixed Laura with her best we are not amused look and then went to work trying to extricate her carry-on bag from under the seat in front. Laura turned in her seat far enough to allow Gail to pass. Before she moved on to join the small queue forming at the rear of the plane, Gail leaned over and whispered in Laura’s ear. ‘Actually, I’m proud of you. You’ve held up very well, with or without aid.’

‘It ministers, it does not gratify,’ Laura growled.

Gail patted her shoulder. ‘Poor monkey.’

*****

The Boeing 747 descended rapidly through a thin bank of cloud, corrected its course then levelled out, cruising effortlessly as it prepared for its final approach into London Heathrow. Securely belted in their seats, some passengers’ eager anticipation erupted into conversation, while others checked then re-checked their documentation or sat staring out the window, perhaps seeing the lush green of the English countryside for the first time.

Earlier, after a Continental breakfast, Laura and Gail had busied themselves filling in their arrival forms. The usual name, address, nationality, but Gail came to a screeching halt on the line marked “Occupation”. ‘What do you think I should put down? I hate housewife and there’s not enough room to put cleaner, school committee member, Halloween costume maker, cook, closet organizer, orphan sock finder …’

‘Put down Lifestyle Co-ordinator.’

‘Lifestyle Co-ordinator; I like that. Is it one of yours?’

Laura nodded as she slid her completed form inside her Passport. Ruefully, she had written “Company Director” on her form. A grandiose title, but the truth was that her little company had not proven as successful as she had hoped. Warned by those in the know, she was learning the hard way that being paid for services rendered, specifically computer training, was a hopeless task. She had boarded the aircraft with only a portion of the receivables paid, or ever likely to be.

Still childless after ten years of marriage, Laura’s relationship with her husband had deteriorated rapidly over the past few months. The trip, it was hoped, would provide a breathing space for both of them; a chance to review options; an opportunity to think things through. Laura idly tapped the tips of her fingernails on the arm of her seat as she thought of her husband, Roger, who was, perhaps at that very moment, sleeping with another woman; a divorcee with a young son. Oh, yes, Laura knew what was happening, and she also knew that Gail had been instrumental in introducing this woman to her brother. It only remained now for Laura to choose just the right moment, when Gail was sufficiently off guard, to … Laura smiled inwardly.

‘Plenty of time yet, so let her enjoy herself; for awhile at least.’

*****

Laura weaved her way around several mounds of luggage then dropped with a heavy sigh into the soft leather sofa beside Gail. ‘Bad news, I’m afraid. Our room won’t be ready for at least two hours.’

Gail groaned. ‘An eight hour flight, a delayed departure, it’s ten in the morning but it feels like midnight and I want - I need - a shower.’ She groaned again, louder this time.

‘Buck up old thing, at least we’re here. London lies at our feet, waiting, so let’s do it. We’ve got Westminster Abbey, Madam Tussauds, Harrods, London Dungeons, Covent Garden, Piccadilly, Buckingham Palace, the Royal Mews. You name it.’

‘Madam Tussauds first,’ Gail said, suddenly excited.

‘You’ve got it.’

*****

‘Well, what do you think?’ Gail asked as she proudly held up the souvenir photo of herself, taken with a waxen Arnold Schwarzenegger.

‘Very nice,’ Laura said, as she luxuriated in the roomy interior of an English taxi.

‘I’m going to take it out of its frame and tell Wayne that I met Arnold, we had lunch together, and …’

‘You would lie to your husband?’ Laura was scandalised.

Gail shrugged. ‘He wouldn’t believe me anyhow. Nothing exciting ever happens to me.’

Laura smiled wickedly as she turned towards the window. ‘Maybe we can change that,’ she whispered under her breath.

*****

By the time they arrived back at their hotel it was nearly two o’clock. Laura watched, fascinated as Gail tried to wrestle monster bag onto her bed. ‘Do you want some help?’

‘No, just stay where you are smoking that damn cigarette while I get a hernia,’ Gail said from the floor where she had positioned herself in the hope that she might be able to push the case upwards.

Laura relented so that, between the two of them, they managed to get it onto the bed. Laura retrieved her cigarette from the ashtray. ‘Tell me when you’re finished with it. For God's sake, don't push it off the bed or it’ll end up in the lounge downstairs.’ Laura had to raise her voice at the end as Gail entered the bathroom, determined to take a quick shower. ‘Don’t be long. Our next stop is Westminster Abbey; resting place of kings and queens.’

Gail stuck her head around the corner. ‘Is Richard buried there?’

‘His wife Anne is but no one knows where he’s buried, if indeed, he’s buried at all.’

‘That’s strange, isn’t it?’

Laura considered the question. ‘There’s plenty about Richard Plantagenet that is singular in the extreme.’

‘Why didn’t you want to stand beside him at Madam Tussauds so I could take your picture?’

‘I’m not a complete tourist you know. Come on, hurry up.’

*****

‘Well, what did you think of Westminster?’ Laura asked over top of her wine glass. They had chosen their hotel restaurant partly because it offered an Early Bird Dinner Special plus, they were both extremely tired now and the knowledge that their beds were so close, appealed.

‘Beautiful, but honestly, you tell the most disgusting stories. Where do you get all that stuff from anyway?’

‘What stuff? You mean about Mary Queen of Scots execution being botched?’ Laura chuckled.

‘And what you said about Elizabeth the First blowing out her coffin because she hadn’t been embalmed properly. Cromwell being dug up, the body hung at Tyburn before being decapitated.’ Gail shook her head in disbelief.

‘Henry the Seventh has a nice tomb though, don’t you think? I especially liked the angels sitting on the lid making sure he can’t get out.’ Laura smiled wickedly.

Gail took a couple of sips of her wine. ‘Well, brat child that you are, if you insist upon relating your disgusting anecdotes and we’re planning to visit the Tower tomorrow, you had better tell me more of the Story. Last I heard Richard was wiping his blade on his pants and his brother was trying on crowns.’

‘My notes are upstairs.’

‘That's okay, I'll wait.’

‘Thanks a lot.’ Laura pushed her chair back. She was assisted by a member of the staff. Explaining the need to get something from her room, she made her apologies and left.

By the time she returned, Gail had finished her wine and had ordered another. Their meals had not yet arrived. Assisted back into her seat, she glared at Gail. ‘And what did your last slave die from?’

‘Never mind. Have you seen the dessert trolley?’ Gail’s eyes fairly danced with delight.

‘Not interested,’ Laura said with a shrug of indifference as she sorted through her notes. In all the years that Laura had known Gail, there was one constant - desserts. Gail had a passion for them; for anything sweet. Oh, Laura could, upon occasion, be tempted with a piece of chocolate, but Gail? Laura figured it would be only a matter of time before the trolley, laden with pies, cream tarts, custard, trifle, death-by-chocolate cake, would find its way to Gail's side totally unaided.

‘You need a sweet now and then to keep your strength up,’ Gail said in self-defence.

Laura had heard this argument before. ‘I don't want to keep my strength up and even if I did, I’d opt for a medicinal brandy, not a sticky cake.’

‘You drink too much,’ Gail huffed.

‘Perhaps, but by the time I’ve finish with this, you’ll probably need a stiff drink too. Ready?’

‘Ready.’

‘With King Henry out of the way, things began to settle down. The House of Lancaster had been virtually wiped out, with a few notable exceptions, and everyone was looking forward to stable government and an end to civil war. The second half of Edward's reign may have begun as Shakespeare suggested at the end of his play - Henry the Sixth, Part Three - with Edward's final speech.

And now what rests but that we spend the time

With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows,

Such as befit the pleasure of the court?

Sound, drums and trumpets! farewell, sour annoy!

For here, I hope, begins our lasting joy.

‘Translated, it means “let's party”. There have been many and various descriptions of King Edward the Fourth, but one thing they all have in common is that he was a picture of a perfect king in his youth, but, as time wore on, his excessive nature began to affect his health and judgement. He was seen frequently outside All You Can Eat Dessert Bars and showed up at Council meetings with sticky fingers.’

Laura started to laugh and was kicked by Gail under the table just as their meals arrived, carried by a bemused waiter who had no doubt seen this little performance. Laura rearranged the table, allowing room for her meal and her notes. Years of study had given her the unique ability to read, converse and eat all at the same time.

Hardly stopping to admire their beautifully presented plates, they began to eat quietly and, except for the odd exclamation regarding the excellence of the meal, they ate in silence. Laura gave up first, unable to finish her plate. ‘Shall I continue?’ she asked, drawing her notes closer and her plate away.

‘Yes, please,’ Gail said, not looking up.

‘Not to put too fine a point on it, Eddie began to overindulge himself, not only with food and wine, but with women too, so that he became fat, lazy and lecherous in the extreme: a lesson to us all.’ Laura cleared her throat suggestively, took a sip of wine and then continued. ‘His Queen must have turned a blind eye to all this, perhaps seeing advantages in his adultery and its attendant guilt to press him for more and more favours for her family.

‘Richard was no doubt eager to get out of London and away from court. He may have disapproved of his brother's lifestyle, but he couldn't have done so too strenuously, since it would appear that he had a least one mistress and was supporting two bastard children, John and Katherine.’

Gail looked up, shocked. ‘Naughty boy.’

‘Mistresses, illegitimate children; it was no big deal in those days or any days for that matter.’ Laura shrugged. ‘Anyhow, since Edward was content to rest on his laurels, enjoying a good time at court, Richard took upon himself the task of securing the realm in his brother's name. I’m not going into all the grants, titles and land transfers with which Edward rewarded those faithful to him. Suffice to say that Richard benefitted greatly from his brother’s largesse, especially in the north.

‘Now, before leaving London to take up permanent residence in Yorkshire, he asked Anne Neville - Warwick's daughter - to marry him. She consented, which shouldn't come as a surprise, considering her situation. Her father was a grade A traitor, and she had been married, or at least betrothed, to the late and unlamented Edouard Lancaster, Prince of Wales.

‘Richard was no fool. By marrying Anne, he would inherit all the rights to Warwick's northern holdings and, he hoped, a share of the Beauchamp estates which Warwick acquired through marriage. Anne would also provide him with all the necessary introductions to the clan-like northern families. Although in all likelihood King Edward didn't approve of the match and perhaps foresaw some difficulties with brother George who just happened to be married to Anne’s sister, he finally gave his consent.

‘In July, 1471 Richard headed north with his own household and retainers and took up residence at Middleham, which must have pleased him no end. He was also granted the former Neville lordships of Sheriff Hutton and Penrith and the whole of Warwick's holdings in Yorkshire and Cumberland. Not a bad start for a kid not quite nineteen years old.’

‘This kid had already murdered someone,’ Gail huffed. ‘That’s a start too.’

Laura shrugged. ‘Hey, he only did what he had to do.’

‘Yeah, sure. Continue.’

‘Thank you. Let’s see. Ah … okay, by the autumn of 1471, Richard was back in London on urgent family business. George - and I should use his title - Duke of Clarence, was dead set against Richard's marriage to Anne, his sister-in-law as I said. Ever the dog in the manger, George insisted that all of the Beauchamp lands were his, and went so far apparently as to have Anne hidden in an inn in London to keep her out of Richard's hands. Richard's spy network soon found her and she was taken to St. Martin's to await the King's pleasure.

‘Although King Edward was capable of extreme anger, a hallmark of the Plantagenets I might add, he was generally the type of man who tried to make all the people happy all the time. The brothers argued back and forth in private until finally the case was handed over to an official hearing. A temporary arrangement was sorted out but the wrangle between the two Dukes was to continue for some time.

‘Anne and Richard were cousins, as well as in-laws and a papal dispensation should have been sought prior to their union, but this formality was overlooked and they were married, in July I think, 1472. Richard's son Edward was born in December, 1473, at Middleham.’

‘He had a son? I didn't know that.’ Gail was genuinely surprised.

‘You see, the Bard missed that; didn't even mention it.’

‘Just the best reason going for murdering the Princes though, isn't it?’ Gail said, smiling maliciously. ‘A clean succession; thanks Dad.’

Laura lowered her reading glasses. ‘I see, so you like Shakespeare’s version better? Usurp the throne and kill the kids, just for fun? Don’t bother mentioning the fact that Richard was a family man.’

‘Will was just using poetic licence or something, that’s all.’

‘Oh well, that’s all right then,’ Laura replied derisively. ‘We wouldn’t want historical fact to get in the way of a good story line, now would we? Shall I continue?’

‘Sure.’

‘While her estates were being argued over, the widowed Countess of Warwick remained in sanctuary at Beaulieu Abbey. In June 1473, Richard had her brought to Middleham to be with her daughter prior to the birth of young Edward. There’s major speculation on Richard's reasons for having his mother-in-law under his roof. They range from “isn't he the nicest boy” to “that will shut the old bag up”.

‘Apparently she had been writing to anyone of importance, complaining about the unfair treatment she had received regarding her estates. She had every right to complain. Apparently, she had been stripped of her inheritance by her two darling son-in-laws. Actions which were technically illegal, I might add, so the boys circumvented the law by having her declared legally dead. Nice trick, don’t you think?’

‘Could they do that?’ Gail asked, appalled.

‘They were royal dukes. What do you think?’

‘You mean they got away with it because of who they were? That’s not fair.’

Laura chuckled. ‘Fair, yes well, I think if you check down through history you’ll find that the law, despite every effort, tends to bend a little under the pressure of raw power.’ She paused for a sip of wine. ‘Anyhow, after his success with his mother-in-law, Richard put the screws on another widow, the dowager-countess Elizabeth Howard. She was the mother of the Earl of Oxford, one of the last surviving Lancastrian supporters and menace at large. Richard was granted the lands of her rebel son, but the lady had considerable holdings in her own right which Richard wanted as well. He took her into custody, ostensibly to prevent her from helping her son's cause and then terrorised her into surrendering her inheritance to him despite the fact that he had absolutely no right to it. He didn't use physical force or anything. The tactic he used was to suggest that she come up for a visit to Middleham, a journey which, because of her great age, the distance and the fact that it was winter, would most certainly have killed her.’

‘That's terrible!’

‘Terrible or not, it worked a treat and he got away with it. King Edward obviously turned a blind eye despite the fact that he knew what his brother was doing was unlawful. Actually, many estates were carved up by George and Richard without regard for the feelings of others.’ Laura caught their waiter’s eye. ‘Want another glass of wine, Gail?’

‘Sure, why not?’

Laura smiled. ‘You’re not worried about drinking too much tonight?’

‘No husband, no kids, get on with the Story.’

‘Right, okay. In 1476 - Richard would be twenty four by then - the remains of his father and brother Edmund were taken from their resting place at Pontefract and reburied with solemn ceremony at Fotheringhay. It was probably the last time that Edward, George and Richard spent time together on reasonably friendly terms.

‘You see, George’s wife Isabel died shortly afterwards and the following January his sister Margaret's husband Charles, Duke of Burgundy was killed at the battle of Nancy. Margaret had no children, but Charles left an heiress, Mary, his only child from a previous marriage. What a wonderful idea. Why not marry George and Mary? Margaret was all for it and so was George since Mary, besides being one wealthy lady and desirable, was also the granddaughter of John of Gaunt and thus had a very nice claim to the English throne. King Edward vetoed the idea. The Queen must have really pulled George's chain when she suggested her brother Anthony, Lord Rivers as a possible bridegroom instead, but again Edward declined.

‘Actually, George had been a pain in the proverbial for some time. Having his ambitions thwarted yet again must have sent him over the edge. He started to bad mouth King Edward, spreading rumours that he was a bastard and therefore an unlawful king. George's hatred of the Queen boiled over early in 1477. Apparently, Isabel had a servant named Ankarette Twynho, a respectable widow of good family. When the Duchess died, Ankarette entered the Queen’s service. On the 14th of April, George had Ankarette arrested and imprisoned at Warwick Castle. She was accused of complicity with the Queen to poison the Duchess of Clarence. There was a trial of sorts, but everyone was so afraid of George that they did what he wanted them to do, which was to convict the lady. The poor woman was found guilty and immediately executed along with a John Thoresby, who was convicted of poisoning the Duchess's baby.

‘The King retaliated. In May, Dr. John Stacey and Thomas Burdett - a member of George's household - were both found guilty of complicity to murder the King by witchcraft.

‘Georgie didn't get the hint. He continued to carry on irresponsibly and may even have been involved in a minor rebellion against the King. He continued to press his poison story, openly accusing the Queen of murdering his wife, and refusing to either eat or drink at Court. The Queen was more than insulted. She firmly believed that George was a major danger to the safety of her sons.’ Laura chuckled. ‘Astute lady was our Liz; right family, wrong brother.’

Gail delivered a withering glance, but said nothing.

‘Anyhow, she began to press King Edward hard and finally, when George interrupted a session of Council at Westminster, publicly denouncing the King's justice regarding Stacey and Burdett, Eddie finally snapped.

‘George was arrested and sent to the Tower. In January 1478 he was put on trial for “heinous unnatural and loathly treason”. Treason by a brother was highly unusual and George had done so at least twice. King Edward could ill afford to forgive George yet again. For the safety of the realm and his throne, he declared his brother guilty of the crime of treason against the crown. Such a verdict, by the way, carried with it an automatic death sentence. George died in the Tower on February 19, 1478; drowned, it is believed, in a vat of malmsey wine.’

Gail had finished her meal by then. Satisfied and not yet ready for dessert, she leaned back comfortably in her chair. ‘Shakespeare has Richard as one of the prime movers behind George's death. He saw George as an obstacle to his own ambitions. True?’

Laura shrugged. ‘Certainly Richard profited nicely from George's death in terms of titles and properties, so frankly, I can't see him shedding too many tears. Anyhow, he stayed well clear of the court, partly because he was disgusted by the King's excesses. I wouldn't call Richard a prude exactly, but by all accounts, King Edward went way beyond the bounds of decency, seducing married women and carrying on in a most undignified manner. The King was not alone in all this either. The Queen's family, notably her two sons from her first marriage and one of her brothers, were just as involved in this scandalous behaviour. Another participant was Lord Hastings who introduced King Edward to Mistress Jane Shore, who very quickly became a royal favourite.

‘King Edward left the north of England in Richard’s capable hands. Everything he asked for was granted him, so by degrees Richard became the most powerful man in the country and he began to flex that power, gathering to him men whose loyalty would be to him first and the King second. Not a difficult task really since many regarded the royal affinity as mainly Wydville-based. Most of Richard's supporters were northerners who had a natural dislike and mistrust of anyone south of the Trent. A dangerous imbalance of power was generated which would ultimately lead to disaster.’

Laura paused, suddenly saddened. ‘And disaster did strike on the 9th of April, 1483. At just forty years of age, King Edward died. Richard was in the north and did not attend his brother's funeral and as far as I’m concerned the Story stops there. What happened next is best discussed when we’re at the Tower of London where we’ll have the benefit of atmosphere to augment the tale.’

‘What? You can’t stop now.’

‘Yes I can,’ Laura said indignantly. ‘What I’ve talked about so far is pretty dry old history. He did this, she was that, but I’m determined to go slowly and methodically through the time from King Edward's death in April 1483 until King Richard's death, August 1485. The Tower of London was where it all started and so shall we. You, my dear sister-in-law, shall have to wait.’ With that final, emphatic statement, Laura closed her notebook.

‘Does this mean it's dessert time?’

‘Go for it.’

After an interval of nearly catatonic indecision and two mind changes, Gail finally settled on the Black Forest Cake slathered with extra whipped cream and freshly cut chocolate curls. Just as the waiter was about to place the dish in front of Gail, Laura asked if it might be possible to adjourn to the room next door. Promising to follow with Gail's dessert and coffee, he escorted them into the lounge. Laura selected a small alcove away from the bustle of the dining area and spread herself out across the small, pale pink leather sofa. Gail sunk into the matching wing chair. It was almost 7:30 p.m.

Laura watched as Gail tackled her dessert, musing on the truth of the saying that some people eat to live and others live to eat. The waiter brought a large pot of coffee.

‘Drink that and you won't sleep tonight,’ Gail warned.

‘Nothing but nothing is going to keep me awake, thank you.’

‘Please continue with the Story. I'm not tired yet and I so enjoy it. I want to be up to speed before the Tower tomorrow.’

Laura sighed. ‘Okay, but straight to bed afterwards.’

‘Right, Mum,’ Gail said in a high pitched voice.

Laura rolled her eyes, picked up her notes again, turned to a new section, and began.

‘The reason why Richard didn’t attend the funeral was because he didn’t know that his brother was dead.’

‘You mean no one told him?’

‘Exactly and I’ll tell you why in a minute. In his will, King Edward named Richard sole protector of his children and the realm. This implied that Richard would govern the kingdom while the young King Edward the Fifth was a minor and that both boys would be his responsibility. It shows you the measure of trust that Edward placed in his brother.’

‘He'll be sorry,’ Gail said in a voice heavy with prophecy.

‘He wasn't sorry; he was dead. Shuffled off the mortal coil he did, leaving one hell of a mess behind. A Protectorate was unacceptable to the Queen who reasoned that if her son was crowned immediately then she and her family could rule in his name. Richard Gloucester, as we both know, had other ideas.

‘Young Edward was at Ludlow castle where he maintained a household as befitting the Prince of Wales. On the 14th of April, his uncle and Governor Anthony Wydville, Earl Rivers, told the boy of his father's death. The Queen immediately made arrangements for his safe conduct to London, originally planning to send a sizeable entourage. Lord Hastings, sensing trouble, insisted on only a small force which the Queen finally agreed on.

‘Lord Hastings was in London at the time of the King's death and had attended Council meetings. It soon became obvious to him that the Wydvilles planned to exclude Richard from any voice in government. Hastings hated the Wydvilles with a passion and the feeling was mutual. When he realised that they had intentionally not told Richard of his brother's death, Hastings sent word to him, giving him the bad news and suggesting that he make haste to secure his position as Protector. He suggested too that he should take young Edward into his protection and authority before the boy reached London.

‘Richard must have received Hastings’ letter with alarm. Young Edward had been raised and tutored by his mother's family. Richard must have realised that a Wydville-dominated Council, ruling on behalf of a child-king, would be a disaster for him and the country. He had to act immediately or risk the possible loss of all his wealth and power. He may well have believed too that his political and personal survival depended upon swift and decisive action.

‘He arrived in York around the 21st of April with a sizeable retinue of Northerners, all dressed in deepest black. He attended a funeral Mass for the dead King and then swore an oath of fealty to the young King Edward the Fifth. From York he moved rapidly south to Nottingham where he met with an agent of the Duke of Buckingham.

‘Now, Henry Stafford, second Duke of Buckingham, was one of the foremost peers of the realm with impeccable bloodlines. His loyalty lay historically with the House of Lancaster, but since he was only a kid when Edward the Fourth took the throne, he was too young to appreciate the significance. While still a minor he was put into the care of Elizabeth Wydville, an arrangement he hated, since he viewed the Queen and her family as upstarts. At eleven he was forced to marry the Queen's sister, Katherine Wydville. Buckingham was about two years younger than Richard, I think, which would mean he would be in his late twenties at this time, and I might add, the father of a healthy young son despite the fact that he supposedly loathed his wife. Interesting character is our Buckingham.

‘Anyhow, Richard sent him an urgent note soliciting his help and support. For Buckingham it was an ideal opportunity to not only crush the hated Wydvilles, but once Richard was helped into power, Buckingham felt sure he could successfully lay claim to estates he felt were his by right. Buckingham agreed to meet Richard at Northampton.

‘Richard then wrote to the young king asking what route was being planned for his journey to London. He suggested that it would be really nice if Edward could join him and the Duke of Buckingham at Northampton and together they could enter London in triumph. What a great idea.’

Gail chuckled.

‘Rivers was either politically naive, unaware of the danger or just plain stupid, because he agreed. I don't know what his problem was, but after learning of the King’s death, Rivers stayed on at Ludlow for several more days before setting out for London. Richard made good use of the delay to position himself on the board.

‘Just as Edward entered Northampton, Rivers’ half-brother Sir Richard Grey arrived from London. Obviously more politically astute, Grey promptly escorted the boy fourteen miles south to Stony Stratford before returning with Rivers and a small detachment of men. Richard and Buckingham arrived only to find that all they had in their net was Grey and Rivers. It was too late in the day to do anything so the Dukes invited Rivers to join them for dinner. Rivers may well have told Richard and Buckingham everything about the Queen’s plans, the rulings in Council, the fact that Richard would be denied all power. It is doubtful if this was news to Richard. His spy network had been working overtime. Rivers went happily to bed only to wake up, locked in his room under heavy guard.

‘At dawn, both dukes set out for Stony Stratford with Grey in tow. The young King was unaware of Rivers’ arrest and greeted his two uncles joyously. Richard greeted his young sovereign with all the usual show of respect, giving no hint whatsoever of his true intentions. If Richard was the dissembler he was said to have been, he must have put on a very convincing performance. Gradually, however, he began to pry Edward free of his retinue, suggesting that the young king was surrounded by men of dubious moral character, low bred and even went so far as to accuse them of trying to deprive him of the office of Protector which had been conferred on him by the late King. Richard even hinted at plots to murder him and finally broke the news of Rivers' arrest. Edward was stunned. He defended his uncle but Richard remained firm, insisting that he and only he knew what was best for the young king, and for England.

‘When Grey tried to intervene, a quarrel ensued. Richard had Grey arrested along with Sir Thomas Vaughan who was the young king’s Chamberlain and close companion and Sir Richard Haute, a distant relation, councillor and loyal friend. The arrests were probably made in Edward's presence. Bereft of those closest to him, Edward stood helpless now as Richard dismissed the two thousand men who made up the royal retinue.’

‘I'm surprised that he was able to do that.’

‘I agree. Richard hadn’t been officially declared Protector yet, so technically speaking, everything he had done so far was illegal; acts of tyranny if you like, but let's face it, if you were a soldier assigned to accompany the young king and someone as powerful as the Duke of Gloucester told you to shove off home, what would you do?’

‘Shove off home,’ Gail said, nodding her head.

‘Right, and quickly too, I bet. Richard and Buckingham then returned to Northampton with the king and their prisoners firmly in hand. I doubt if Edward was allowed to see Rivers. Richard spent the rest of the day writing to the Council and the Lord Mayor of London explaining the situation, and assuring them that the young king was now in good hands, rescued as it were from the very jaws of perdition. It would be interesting to know what young Edward thought. Chances are that he was more then a little apprehensive. He didn't know his Uncle of Gloucester very well and what he did know had been told to him by the Wydvilles. Certainly Richard's actions lately would hardly have endeared him to the boy.

‘When the news reached London, there was pandemonium. The Queen, with the help of her son Dorset, fled to sanctuary at Westminster after first dividing up the royal treasure. Now Edward the Fourth had dabbled in the lowly business of trade, and had acquired a tidy little fortune. In fact, he was one of the few kings who died solvent; downright rich actually.

‘Naturally, the Queen had her daughters with her and her other son, Richard, Duke of York. She took over the Abbot's house; apparently doing some damage while moving in all her personal affects. I bet the Abbot was super pleased. Archbishop Rotherham of York arrived soon after the Queen entered sanctuary and gave her the Great Seal of England which he held as Lord Chancellor.

‘People milled about the streets of London, talking, speculating and some even went so far as to don armour, rallying to the Queen's cause. Mancini wrote that there was current in the capital a sinister rumour that the Duke had brought his nephew not under his care but into his power, so as to gain the crown for himself.

‘This is all rumour of course but, the news of the Queen's flight into sanctuary would have been sufficient fuel to spark controversy and unease amongst the citizenry.

‘On the 2nd of May Richard had his prisoners sent north to Pontefract Castle. He received a letter from Hastings that day too, telling him about the reaction in London, the Queen's move into sanctuary and Rotherham’s unwise surrender of the Great Seal into the Queen's hands. Richard wrote to Council immediately ordering Rotherham’s dismissal as Lord Chancellor. He then wrote to Thomas Bourgchier, Archbishop of Canterbury, asking him to secure the Great Seal and ensure that the treasure was safe. When Richard found out that it had been taken by the Queen, the proverbial really hit the fan.’ She chuckled.

‘And,’ Gail added, ‘I don't suppose he was too pleased when he learned of the Queen's decision to seek sanctuary either.’

‘No, he wasn't at all pleased. He had been working overtime, assuring everyone that things were just fine and then she pulls a stunt like that. It’s tantamount to saying that she feared for her life, and the lives of her children.’

‘Didn’t she?’

‘Didn’t she what?’

‘Come on Laura, she must have been afraid of Richard otherwise why do such a thing?’

‘I think she was afraid of her own unpopularity and of Richard’s power. She was prepared to fight him, but only from the safety of blessed sanctuary.’

‘Could he have done her an injury; physically I mean?’

‘No!’ Laura said, indignant at first. ‘Well, not openly. There were laws against that sort of thing, even in those days. The worst he could have done was to lock her away somewhere, and of course, take the kids. That’s why she decided to take the initiative and, I might add, the treasure. Anyhow, Richard wasted no more time. On the morning of May 3rd, Richard and Buckingham escorted Edward out of Northampton on the road to London.

‘The two Dukes rode on either side of Edward during the procession into the city, proceeding to St. Paul's where the young king was installed temporarily in the Palace of the Bishop of London. Richard then summoned all the magnates and citizens to pay homage to their young sovereign; a ceremony which was done with great joy and relief. Hastings especially was super pleased that all had gone well and no one had been hurt. I guess he didn't ask Richard where Rivers, Grey, Vaughan and Haute were.

‘With all that out of the way, Richard posted guards about the King's person and then retired to Baynard Castle, the family home on the Thames. He shuffled the Council a bit, got rid of individuals whom he knew were either hostile or of no value to him, until he had a hard core of men he could reasonably trust. The first order of business at this new Council concerned a proper residence for Edward since the Bishop's Place was old and unsuitable. Various places were suggested but it was Buckingham who first put forward the idea of the Tower. Council agreed and so Edward was moved there sometime before the 19th of May.’

‘I do not like the Tower, of any place. Isn't that what Edward said when he heard the news?’ Gail asked.

‘Well, that’s what Shakespeare suggested he said but in fact the Tower had not yet acquired its sinister reputation; the Tudor's did that.’

‘But, Henry the Sixth and George, Duke of Clarence both died there, so young Edward must have been at least a little apprehensive.’ Gail was sticking firmly to the point. ‘And, considering the way he had already been treated, he might have been downright scared.’

‘Perhaps, but he didn't have any choice in the matter anyway. Historical precedence would demand that sooner or later he would have to stay at the Tower prior to his coronation. Besides, he wasn't kept in some dark, dank tower or something. South of the White Tower, in what was called the “Royal Ward”, there were a number of massive wooden structures, a banqueting hall, privy chambers, an audience chamber and royal bedrooms. It was quite sumptuous, really. I'll show you what I mean tomorrow. The night before his coronation, however, he would be expected to stay in the White Tower, praying all night in the Chapel but other than that, he had the run of the royal apartments.’

‘Nevertheless, he would be watched day and night.’

‘Of course he would be carefully watched day and night,’ Laura said, emphasising the word carefully. She paused then and lit a cigarette.

‘So, you admit that Richard had the boy under close guard?’

‘Of course he did. I’m sure that Richard was just making sure that the boy didn't hurt himself; have an accident or something.’

‘Sure,’ Gail said with more than a hint of sarcasm. ‘Come on, Laura, Richard kept a close watch on that child because he had no intentions of ever letting him out, not alive anyway. He probably hoped that he would have an accident - a fatal one.’

‘Now, Gail, you’re jumping to conclusions. There’s absolutely no evidence up to now to suggest that Richard had any designs on the boy or his throne. In fact, after he was proclaimed Protector and Defender of the Realm on the 10th of May, Richard encouraged the Council to set a date for Edward's coronation - the twenty-fourth of June to be exact.

‘Richard's role of Protector got off to a bumpy start though when Council began to ask embarrassing questions about Rivers, Grey, Vaughan and Haute. Richard wanted Council to draw up warrants accusing them of complicity to murder, calling them traitors. The Council more or less refused since there was absolutely no evidence to support Richard's claims, plus since at the time Richard had not yet been officially declared Protector, the “Stony Stratford Four” could not be accused of treason. Richard was encouraged to release them but of course he wouldn't, and didn't, do that. Almost from the start he was being challenged and when Council went on to suggest that Richard ought to do something to improve the Queen's condition, he must have gone ballistic.’

Gail chuckled.

‘Well,’ Laura said, smiling, ‘Richard probably knew by then that the Queen had spirited away the royal treasure and here was Council suggesting that he should do something in consideration of the Queen's “good dignity and safety”. Obviously Council didn't consider her a threat although her continued presence in sanctuary was becoming an administrative embarrassment. Richard wanted to see her out, transferred if possible to a lovely nunnery somewhere, like in Yorkshire for instance.

‘Eventually Richard appointed a committee of lords headed by Buckingham and the Archbishop of Canterbury. They tried to reason with the Queen but, no luck. All Richard could do publicly to alleviate her condition was to encourage people to visit her, and many did, for a while. That was probably a mistake. Elizabeth Wydville was an experienced manipulator, capable of extreme charm and ruthlessly ambitious for herself and her family. Believe me, she was still dangerous. But Richard had to put up with it in the end when it became obvious that she wasn't leaving. As much as Richard might have wanted to pull her out by force, he dare not do that and risk the Church's wrath. No doubt he posted spies who kept him informed of all the comings and goings.

‘I’ve often wondered just how much the Queen told her children. Elizabeth of York was seventeen and the youngest, Bridget was three years old and, of course the second son Richard, Duke of York. It must have been extremely difficult for the young Elizabeth who should have been at court, having a lovely time, not stuck in an abbey with her overbearing and aloof mother. If the Queen tried to poison her children's minds against Richard, she wasn’t entirely successful as we shall soon see. And that, my dear, is it for tonight.’ Laura closed her notebook with a resounding thud. ‘The Tower of London awaits our arrival on the morrow.’